Em
by Flutter-Pony
Summary: A little maybe multi-chapter  about the names they call each other. Spoilers through 'Funeral'. Thanks so much for reading!
1. Em

He didn't sweep her of her feet that very first day.

She was new and nervous and her thermos of tea had leaked on her PB & J, but she took a deep breath and smiled through it, like she promised herself she would.

They met in the hallway amongst the hurried, wide eyed juniors. He spoke and she studied the tiny lines on his face.

"Oh and Em? I'll let Principle Figgins know to keep soy milk in the faculty refridgerator for you"

_Em._

Emma Pillsbury had never been gifted a moniker, not because she wasn't pleasant and friendly, but because she was earnest with her habits and her illness. Her name was spoken with delicate care, and she had never minded much at all.

But he called her Em. As if he knew all of her. It wasn't as if she was madly in love with him. She didn't dance around with naïve, romantic visions in her head. She was far too sensible for that. But even on that first day, she knew would do anything to make him happy. It was an undeniable, unflattering and un-sexy fact. Will Schuester became her number one priority and it was terrifying.

He kept calling her that and each time she would blink slowly and convince herself that it was all in her head. This beautiful, talented, married man was just being friendly. He wasn't falling in love with her.

They kissed. He loved her, he told her so.

It all got messy. But he still called her that sometimes when they polished grapes together and she lusted the warmth of his body but couldn't bring herself to tell him that.

He's in New York because he wanted so badly to go and because she told him to, again faking a smile.

At night she puts her hair in a ponytail, drinks tea from her WOHN mug and insists on celebrating her progress and strengths. The floor that goes unswept for a day, the fingerprint on the photo frame. She wonders if he's drinking more coffee now that he's a New Yorker.

She doesn't jump when the doorbell rings and Dr Shane would be proud. She doesn't even adjust her hair, she really is doing so well.

"Will! What are you doing here?" She's trying to sound shocked but she's grinning, she can't help it.

"Show's over. Told you I'd be back" his voice is just how she remembers it and somehow more amazing at the same time.

She can feel her head tilting slightly to study him some more, checking for signs of pain or regret, like she's been doing since the day she met him.

"I'm so sorry"

"Don't be. Honestly, I'm glad. My place is here" he's looking her in the eye.

"The kids have missed you"

His eyes are hooded, he's thinking and instead of clenching her fists by her side and bracing for disappointment, she waits, gives him time and enjoys the relief of finally seeing him again.

"You look beautiful, Em"

He did it again.

"I love it when you call me that" she blurts and blushes and looks to the floor, leaning against the doorframe.

"Em?" it's a whisper.

She nods coyly.

"Well then, Em" she laughs a little at the deliberate awkwardness. "Can I come in? I was hoping we could talk"

"Not yet" she stands up straighter and he's startled and she's said the wrong thing. "No, I mean if you want to talk about us, you and me and…." She's focusing on the wall behind his head "Will, I …. If I let you inside and we talk and decide that we can't have our shot again. Well. I can't do that. So, I'll say it now that I want to be with you and not because you helped me with my issues but because I have a little trouble sleeping when I don't know where you are. And I worry about you when you get stressed about Glee club and because you make me happy. Okay. You can talk now" Her words are cute and soft and clipped and they might make him explode from happiness.

"I love… I want us to try again" he can't contain his excitement. It's in his eyes and his body and he grabs her hand swiftly, taking in her skin under his fingertips.

She giggles and glows and bits of hair are falling on her face. She kisses him and he's pretty sure she's never done that before. Not on the mouth, not with her whole face so close to his he can hear the softest moan of want from her.

When it's over their bodies are touching. She's smiling again and she's never looked this happy.

"Come inside" she beams at him

"I think, if you don't mind, I'd rather take you out tonight. We could go on a real first date. You pick the restaurant" his arms are enveloping her.

"I'd need time to freshen up" her nerves made that nervous twitch and he knew she was thinking of her hair that was out of place, the tea going cold on her coffee table and the restaurant that would be totally unprepared for her diligence.

"Tell you what? I'll go home and unpack and be back in two hours. Does that work for you?"

She nods, her eyes holding a fearful expression.

"If it's too much, we can-"

"No! It's fine, that sounds wonderful"

"Okay, I'll be back" and he leaves her feeling more attractive and wanted than she ever has before. Their conversation repeats in her head while she curls her lashes and polishes her shoes, looking forward to hearing him call her name over and over again.


	2. Everything

THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS of the last chapter. I'm continuing this as a sort of collection of moments that should be in some sort of chronological order. Let me know if it's worth going on. Also, apologies for the typo, I needed to get this up before I ran out of internet access and the editing suffered.

She said it with a breath. Wreathing under him in sweat and pleasure with the sheets bunching up underneath them. He could make her do anything.

"Did you mean it?" he broke the silence with his husky voice against her bare shoulder, exposed to his lips.

He waited for her nod, running a palm over her navel.

"Say it again" he moved his body on top of hers.

She diverted her stare from his twitching muscles and his expectant face.

"Emma" he kissed her neck sending shivers all through her again.

"I want you Will" his hands guided hers above her head, he owned her body again.

"That's not what you said"

"I love you" she whispered it so quietly and just like that, her guard was down.

They walk side by side through the corridor, never touching. Not like the summer, that had been full of delicate brushes and hungry kisses. His morning stubble, his coffee cup, all his freshly laundered vests. She had felt it all because he generously offered. But now it was time for fall and sideways glances and being with him in the real world where the kids needed them and the stress of it all made Emma feel flawed and uneasy.

"Mr Schuester! I had a musical epiphany over the summer!"

"Hi Rachel, it's nice to see you too. Finn! Hey" He beamed at the ever-growing teenagers and they grin back with equal enthusiasm.

Together, they shared stories of Nationals that were a bittersweet loss and of New York, which was an undeniable success. It happened without him thinking. Finn was recounting his disastrous fishing trip with Burt Hummel and Will's arm slid, discretely and firmly around her back, pulling his colleague into his side, holding her. In public. At McKinley. In front of the whole world.

Emma froze and he felt it.

"By the way Miss P. I'm glad you finally took him back. Mr Schue went all weird without you-"

Her face went white, he dropped his arm. Was she going to be sick?

"Oh no Finn. Mr Schuester and I aren't uh, you know, romantic or anything inappropriate. We're just colleagues. Yes, just two colleagues walking together, I mean in the same space. In the school. Because we're teachers…. I have to …. go" and she did.

She made a beeline to the bathroom and scrubbed her hands with Lysol out of her bag, the same one she told Will she would leave at home.

It was out of control, this thing between them. They had deliberately taken it slow. After Carl it seemed right and respectful. But then he'd show up on her doorstep with take out, humming some intoxicating song she'd never heard, and she couldn't help but let him in.

But it wasn't just Will now, standing in her kitchen flipping eggs and burning them, the Will that was so furious he shook when explaining away his mother's drinking habits. Now he was Mr. Schuester, who so publicly broke her heart and she was Miss Pillsbury, sick and ever-foolish. Here, the risks were greater, the fall would be harder. She wasn't ready to risk it, her mental health or her pride, or her heart.

She looked her reflection in the eye and calmed herself.

He had let himself into her office, knowing she wouldn't come to his. Slumped a little in the chair, he looked too tired for the morning hours.

"What was that back there?" she hated the way he was never afraid to look into her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she played ignorant. She had always been good at that.

"You don't want Finn and Rachel to know we're together?"

"I just think we should keep things professional at school" the pause that followed was awkward and reminisant of her wedding announcement a lifetime ago.

"So you don't want the staff, our friends to know either?" his eyes watered the way they do when he is concerned.

"It's easier that way Will" and with that she hurts him and he can't hide it.

"Are you embarrassed?"

"No-"

"Then I don't get it". There is a hint of anger.

"Can we talk about this later? I have work to do"

"Not until you explain why our relationship is all of a sudden top secret" it very almost a yell, so she raised her voice to match it.

"Everyone is waiting for us to fall! They've seen your marriage breakdown and mine and now it's just a matter of time right?"

She was red in the face when Mercedes arrived for her appointment to discuss college applications and scholarships. It scared her when he didn't say anything. He stood up, acknowledged his student and was gone. Emma was dizzy.

"Uh, do you need a moment Miss P?"

"No, I'm fine. It's so nice to see you Mercedes" she smiled her brightest but Mercedes was more perceptive that Emma gave her credit for.

"I know it's none of my business but Mr. Schue is all kinds of crazy about you. And I know you were with that dentist guy or whatever, but the Glee club, we need Mr. Schue on his game this year if we're going to take Nationals"

"Oh, Mercedes, I don't think-"

"Kurt and I saw you at the Mall. You were holding hands and you guys had these goofy grins…. Whatever it is, you can fix it. I mean you are guidance councillor"

She waited until the lunch bell and ran in heels to the choir room.

He heard her shoes but didn't turn from where he was writing notes on the whiteboard. She stood beside him, close enough to smell him cologne and coaxed his eyes to hers.

"I think I know what my problem is" she said matter of factly, taking the marker from his hand. He tried to speak but she was determined to articulate herself this time.

"I don't know what to call you" he tilted his head in confusion.

"I mean when people ask me about you, I don't know what to say. I've never done this before. I suppose you're my boyfriend but that doesn't feel right. And you're a wonderful lover…" she blushed but continued "but…"

He let the silence hang and then interrupted.

"Finn pulled me aside before and you know what I told him?" she shook her head and those huge eyes were wide and listening. "I told him that you were everything to me"

"Even when I completely overreact and run off on you?" what had she been thinking?

"Especially then" his voice was perfect.

She took both his wrists gently in her palms and played with the cuffs on his shirt while she kissed him, softly, slowly until he moved his hand to her hip and pulled her closer. When the noise of 12 teenagers in a mix of cheer and disgust were heard she held him still for a few more moments, tasting him and feeling him because he was her everything. And she couldn't tell the kids that yet, or her parents, or even Will himself, but she could show them all, everyday.


	3. Cleanybug

THANKS again to R0ckgal, aguita23 and ma1teo for (always) reviewing! I love knowing that people actually read these. xxx

The fumes hang in the air, as if warning him to stay out.

Bleach he guesses. It's her weapon of choice, even though she is steadily and certainly improving.

He locks the door behind him, not quietly enough.

"Will…?"

Her voice sounds heavy like it did when she called yesterday to tell him she wouldn't be coming in to school. It was just a little fever, nothing to worry about.

He worried all morning, rang her at lunch and promised to deliver chicken soup by four. She coughed into phone and hushed him. He was told to stay away, she was going to be no fun and with teacher-parent conferences coming up, he couldn't afford to catch her germs.

It was now 24 hours later and she'd only answered his calls with a series of sighs and incoherent chesty grunts.

"Will…?" she calls again, in a husky crackle.

"Hey " he simpers, knowing how much she wants him to stay away.

The light is on in her bedroom where she is huddled under a pink duvet with her eyes closed. She shivers, nestling further into the sheets.

"…Don't…." her head turns toward him slowly, she raised her fists to rest under her chin but her eyes refuse to open.

He takes tentative steps when he thinks she's not listening, reacquainting himself with her delicate button nose and red hair that is always shiny and sometimes curly.

When he sits on the mattress it rouses her into instinctive offence despite the sweat on her forehead and influenza in her lungs.

"Go" she says as firmly as he can, looking at and screwing up her nose. She sounds more southern when she's sick.

"How are you feeling?" he's touching her cheek and she can tell that he's testing her temperature, as if she were a child.

"I'm okay" and she is, at least much better than yesterday when she kept chocking on cold and flu tablets and phlegm.

"Em, you're burning up still" he's running a hand through her hair, a move she would normally find endearing.

But today she sighs and turns away from him, bunching the comforter closer toward her neck.

"How about I run you a luke warm shower. It will bring your temperature down… make you clean"

She winces. He knows how to play her. She wants nothing more than a long, scorching shower to rinse off the millions of disgusting, invasive bacteria crawling all through her. But her irrational brain can't be sure she won't fall apart if she leaves the warm familiarity of this bed.

She can't muster a response so she ignores him because it seems kinder than moaning at him to leave here and save himself from the filth of this virus.

Silence. The shuffle of his feet. The weight of him at her side. His warm arms wrapping loosely around her.

A dream.

A cold and wet clothe on the back of her neck.

"Why are you still here?" she exhales.

"Ssshhh… go back to sleep"

"You can't get sick!"

"Em, I don't care" the certainty in his voice makes her want to win the battle even more. She won't have him being her night in shining armour.

He kisses her ear. He's going to catch it for sure. He's rubbing circles on her back and the only way she can stop him is to turn and face him and then his arms are around her again and her face is resting on his chest and she had hear the rhythm of his heart and nothing matters.

He rubs more circles on her back.

"Thank you for being here" she mumbles.

"I got lonely without you..." she shivers again and gulps "water?" he offers but she shakes her head and looks paler.

"Just talk to me"

She's entwined with him and he can't help but smirk a little because it once seemed impossible that Emma, his beautiful, smart, infuriately independent best friend would need him and let her self be needed.

"I can tell you a story" he kisses her eye lid and then the other. "You had an appointment booked with one of my Spanish Freshmen today, Sally Ford. When you couldn't make I offered to help her out".

She's perhaps subconsciously fiddling with the hem of his vest.

"Apparently you guys have a weekly 'Cleany-bug' meeting… she's doing so well with her germaphobia, Em, you should have seen how happy she was. She didn't even try and dust your office"

His partners breathing is even, under her fluttering eyelids she is dreaming, peacefully he hopes.

"…She told me you're her hero…."

Hours later when she wakes in a frantic, diary based nightmare, clinging to his chest, gasping for air, he coaxes her into the shower and waits patiently while she washes her hair and says she doesn't need to talk about it. She just has nightmares when she's not feeling well.

Back in bed she feels a little better.

"I forgot to ask you how your day was," she whispers, resuming her position against his torso. "Did you come up with a solo for Sam?"

"Yeah, I did"

"You're so amazing with those kids…" she's speaking in a sleepy slur.

"So are you, more than you realise"

"… They call me a Cleany-bug…" she hated her words as she said them, so full of self pity. But they were out now and her head was to heavy to take them back.

"Of course they do. It's one of your strengths, it makes you so relatable and compassionate" he wants so badly to continue the speech but he knows she's not listening. He promises himself in the morning, he'll sit tell her over breakfast how Kurt admires the colour co-ordination of her office and how Quinn once commented on the clean sparkle of her hair. And he hopes one day soon Sally Ford will find the strength to thank her for risking her own recovery so selflessly.

In the morning he will tell her how she saved him in dark loveless times with Terri. But she's resting finally. So instead he pulls her closer and says goodnight to his Cleany-bug.


End file.
